


Two Cents

by TheNamesSid (TheNamesNotImportant)



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dialogue Heavy, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, If you want - Freeform, Mild Language, One Shot, Platonic Geraskier, Positive ending, also roach does not receive nearly enough love, but you can interpret it as romantic, not even in this fic, wow i cant tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:55:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22329703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNamesNotImportant/pseuds/TheNamesSid
Summary: Jaskier has a lot of opinions. He also tends to exaggerate things. Sometimes though, he tells Geralt the truths he needs to hear instead.Edit 15.5.20: Fixed spacing
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 1
Kudos: 53





	Two Cents

**Author's Note:**

> The one time, the _one_ time, I go to a fandom to find wholesome platonic men, of course, the first thing I'm greeted by is h*rny gays. Normally, I am one, so no hate. But this time I just want good friendship, so I wrote this out of spite. Eat your damn cornflakes.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to add my two cents on the matter.”

“The bill is already paid, Jaskier.” Geralt cut, keeping his focus on the forest road ahead of them.He wore a stony face. Geralt seemed to suffer from an incurable case of resting bitch face.

“Well somebody has to pay the tip, don’t you think?” Jaskier idly strummed the lute in his hands.

He sighed. “No one wants your piece.”

“Consciously, no. But,” he jumped, “whether you realize it or not, you want advice. You, the lone white wolf, are lost in the night woods, seeking a light to guide you out, yet acting tough and sure. I bet that’d make a good song,” He mused. He cast his eyes about the dense undergrowth out of boredom and curiosity.

“Then why don’t you show me the way out, o’ shining one.” If the white haired man had been prone to rolling his eyes, they would have been in the back of his head. He urged Roach up a steep incline. A few rocks scattered behind her and toward the bard.

Jaskier jogged up beside Geralt and looked up with pleading eyes. The witcher rubbed the bridge of his nose. When he glanced down again, the bard was still looking at him expectantly. He muttered under his breath. He reached down and grabbed the brunette, pulling him onto the mare with experienced ease. He didn’t bother even stopping.

“Much better. Y’know it gets quite tiring walking for so long. I don’t know why you’re so opposed to letting me ride with you.” He situated himself.

“You weigh down poor Roach.”

“Oh come now, I can’t weigh all that much if you can pick me up like that.”

“I’m a witcher. I can haul a kikimora out of a bog and throw a striga across a castle.” Geralt patted Roach’s neck. “And you weigh unusually less than normal. You aren’t eating enough.”

“I eat just fine, I’ll have you know. It’s all this walking that’s making me thin.” He put on a look of fake offence despite the other not being able to see him.

The witcher hummed.

Jaskier glanced at the tall trees above them that dimmed the noon sun. He frowned. “Back to what I was saying; You made a mistake.

“You made many mistakes, in fact. So many that they’ve started coming back to bite you right in your magnificent buttocks. Now you’ve refused to ask for help and are only making things worse for everyone. You think that everything will sort itself out if you yell at it. You’re wrong. And the longer you continue on like this, the more things will devolve into all Hell. Worst of all, you know, but you refuse to admit it. Per usual, thinking that you are the only one who can do anything, and that no one else is capable of being more than a decoration in the background of your story. That stubborn selfishness will be the end of you, white wolf.”

The witcher’s knuckles were white under the black gloves from his grip on the reins. “Asked a penny for your thoughts, but I got the full two pennies’ worth.” He spoke tersely.

“You need to admit that you’re wrong and ask for help. There’s nothing wrong with that, but you know what is wrong? Making people suffer because of self-centered pride or whatever it is that drives you to ridiculousness. It’s what earned you that nasty title, ‘Butcher of Blaviken’. And you won’t even admit to me when I’m the one who helped scrub that from your name. Y’know, no matter how many times you do that, I can write a song to help your name, but I can’t help _you_ like that. I need you to help. If you even want help.

"I’m telling you what I see, Witcher.”

The trees swayed gently, their leaves rattling. The breeze carried a wave of sickly sweet pollen with it. Roach snorted. The chatter of the squirrels and birds conversations sounded above; the thump of hooves below. The two men sat horseback were quiet, their faces each grim and solemn. They passed a minute, two, three, without speaking.

Jaskier breathed in. “G-”

The witcher threw his weight back, knocking the bard. His companion was caught off guard, slipping from the saddle. He clung to Geralt’s back. Jaskier struggled to pull himself back up into the saddle. Roach startled and side stepped. He slipped further before he was pulled up by an leather clad arm. He huffed. After checking that the lute was still upon his back, he sighed.

“That. Was rude.” He punctuated his words with jabs to the witcher’s ribs. The normally smiling man was for once scowling. “And you should not have done that.”

Geralt grumbled.

“Hey, no. I am trying to give you advice that you desperately need to hear, as you have so ungraciously shown. Geralt, do you understand what I say? Do you listen? You should.”

“I listen.” His voice sounded like cold water hitting ice.

“Really?” There was a hint of disbelief, but mostly a mixture of disappointment, annoyance, and just a bit of hope. He stopped the mare. Jaskier waited. “Well?”

Geralt sighed and cast his eyes toward the ground. He closed his eyes. He grumbled. “Yes,” he said with a hesitance as of something dragging at him. “I understand what you mean.

“I...I fucked up a few things. I need to work on them. I need to work on...me. I’ve screwed over more than a few people and pissed them off. I shouldn’t have pushed you away. Are you happy now?”

Jaskier placed a hand on Geralt’s shoulder, relaxing. “I suppose that’s a start.”

“Good. Let’s get moving again.” All signs of vulnerability disappeared as quickly as they arrived.

“You’re the one who stopped us in the first place. Roach would’ve happily kept going.”

He snorted. “She wants food.”

“Of course, that’s how animals work.”

“That’s how humans work too,” Geralt tossed over his shoulder.

“I’m not denying it, but hey, we’re animals too, aren’t we?” A smile had returned to its regular place on singer’s face.

“Speak for yourself.”

Jaskier hummed a softer version of a familiar tune. He had heard it a million times over, but it still stirred something quiet in him. “I still haven’t heard an apology,” he accused.

His brow furrowed. “I admitted I was wrong.”

“Exactly, you admitted to it, you didn’t apologize for it,” Jaskier pointed out.

Geralt didn’t respond. Roach slipped on a stone down a hill, sending them toppling forward. They both managed to hold on, but the mare went barreling forward at full speed for several lengths before Geralt pulled back on the reins. “Woah, Roach. Easy, girl.”

She shook her head. Geralt checked his companion quickly, and, content that everything was okay, they started forward at a walk again. Jaskier took the opportunity to glance down. Roach wasn’t a pony, but she wasn’t very tall either. The drop would just be enough to hurt your ankle if you landed wrong.

The trees began to thin out around the travelling companions as a field came into view down the forest path.

Geralt turned his head to look back at Jaskier with a huff. “Jaskier,” he grabbed the man’s attention. “I’m sorry.”

Jaskier blinked and a grin formed. “That wasn’t so bad now was it. I don’t think it was that hard.”

He turned back, but not before Jaskier caught a glimpse of the slightest morose smile. “Nobody asked for your opinion.”

**Author's Note:**

> it is past midnight right now which is saying something considering i'm a grandpa who goes to bed early


End file.
